VC Positive
by vampgirl8
Summary: Kris' a loner,refusing to get too close to anyone after her parents died.Now,when she's chosen to go to the classy VC Academy,she learns there's far more to the school and her reason for being there than she thought.Did I mention she's a witch?tempHIATUS
1. Loves

**Hi, this is another vampire story you might like...just on the off chance...you want to read...It's good...at least I think it is...what I have so far, anyway...Read and Review, please! Because remember, the more reviews I have, the more I type because I'm happier...which means more updates for YOU! **

Prologue: Loves

Somewhere in the world, unbeknownst to us humans, there exists a town-more like a city, actually-called Harrowsfield. You won't find it on any map, or GPS. This secret society in known only to the government, the people who live there, and the people who used to live there. This town is kept secret for one reason, and one reason only.

The town is more than 90 percent vampires.

The town is a place for vampire teenagers eighth to twelfth grades, and their school teachers. Everyone is provided with their own home in the town. Sibling vampires usually live together, of course, and the teachers all have rooms in an apartment complex down the street from the school. This town has no adults otherwise. This town was created for the teenage vampires, in the hopes that they would be able to find their Love while young.

You see, vampires have all the typical attributes. Enhanced strength, speed, hearing, and vision. They also have your typical fangs, which retract, of course. They can also read the minds of humans. This aids in keeping their kind safe from discovery, and protects them. Also, for every vampire, there is a person who matches them. You might call them a 'soul mate', but the vamps call them Loves. A vampire can not read the mind a Love. Loves have a specific DNA that makes them resistant, called VC, which stands for Vampire Compatibility +. Those who aren't Loves are VC-. There are very few VC+'s in the world, so for a vampire to find his or hers is a good thing.

Every year, vampire representatives for the government go to every school in the country and search the seventh grades for VC+'s, so that they may invite them to attend a 'special boarding school' in eighth grade free of charge. This school is, of course, the one located within Monstville. The boarding school trick is just a cover. The VC+'s who decide to attend the school make up the other 10 or so of the town's population. Of two hundred and fifty or so residents, only about twenty are mortal. They are gathered so that the vampire students may find their Loves while young, so that they won't have to wander the earth in the years to come alone, and without someone to be with.

So, what does all this have to do with our story's heroine, Kristiana Stilhouse, your average girl, with the exception that she was secretly a witch, who just wants to be left alone to her books, rather than hang out with friends? Friends that, for her, are nonexistent? Kristiana, who thinks it's better just to stick to yourself and mind your own business?

Well, you'll just have to find out.

* * *

**Read and Review please! Here's a sneak peek for those who are wondering what may happen next...**

_I put a hand on my forehead, covering my eyes as I breathed deeply through my nose. I hated when she said things like that. Not because it was annoying, but because it was exactly what I needed to hear. She knew I was lonely, and while she disagreed with the reasons behind my antisocial nature, she supported me in any way possible. She knew I hadn't let myself cry at my parents' funeral, and that I never let people see my pain. She knew how much I missed them, and how much I wanted someone,_ **anyone**_, to hold me and tell me it would be all right, even if it was a lie. _


	2. Cool Auras

**Hello, my lovlies! Thank you for reading! Tell me what you think, and the more I get, the sooner I'll update...hint hint. Thanks you! **

Chapter 1: Cool Auras

I, Kristiana Stilhouse, was as bored as could be. It was the last day of school, for God's sake, why did we have to get a guest speaker today of all days? Apparently, the guy standing in front of us, droning _on_ and _on, _was a government representative. He was telling us about how happy we should be to be teenagers at last, and how it was time that we become respective citizens of the nation.

Needless to say, at least three people were secretly sleeping in their seats.

I myself almost felt like taking a nap. I was tired. Last night I'd snuck out of my aunt's house to go to the cemetery, which I did every night I couldn't sleep, to visit my parent's graves. For some reason, after sitting on the damp grass and talking to them for a bit, I always felt relaxed and calm, and was able to sleep again.

You see, my parents died when I was nine. My mother was a witch, my father a mage, and I'd gained my magical skills from them. You'd think they'd be able to survive something as simple as a car wreck, what with their magic and all. But, surprise, surprise, even a mage can be killed in a head on collision. Especially since the guy had come out of nowhere, and so my parents hadn't had time to dodge or cast even the simplest spell. I've been living with my aunt Kristine since then, who was currently planning on marrying her long-time boyfriend, Harold, in July.

I know what you're thinking. Kristine and Kristiana. My mother had loved her sister very much, so I'd been named after her. This served to cause some confusion, since we both preferred the nickname Kris. I didn't mind, though, I loved aunt Kris. She was kind, funny, smart, and my best, and only, friend in the world. Other than my kitten Bindi, of course. She's also my familiar. You know, the animal that all witches have, that increases their magical ability and will live as long as the owners do, and that can usually communicate with said witch? Yeah, those.

"So, maybe you can get a job for babysitting, or doing some other chore over the summer..."

The guest speaker brought my attention back to where I was, and I tried to pay attention. We were currently in the small gymnasium, which was for the connecting elementary school. The seventh year teachers were standing near the doorway to the gym, watching us to make sure we didn't misbehave. All of my fellow seventh, soon to be eighth, grade classmates and I were sitting on the bleachers, which only rose three levels along the right wall. We had our backpacks sitting on our laps or in front of us, and most were chatting animatedly in whispers with the people near them. Not me, of course. I have no friends to chat with. No, I sat at the far end of the bleachers, by myself, as I always did. I found it was easier not to have friends.

I know that must seem odd. Not having friends? Come on! Who doesn't want friends?

Not me. I'd learned when my parents died that the more you care about someone, the more it will hurt when they're torn away from you. So, I distanced myself. I only allowed myself to care for my familiar, my aunt, and Harold. But, of course, everyone slips up once in a while. For instance, I made the mistake in sixth grade of making friends with a seventh grader. Her name had been Anna, and she'd been my best friend. Then, when we'd come back to school after summer, I was excited to see her, but found that she'd moved last minute, to go to an all expense paid boarding school.

I'd been heartbroken, and had redoubled my efforts to isolate myself from the others. I didn't want to be hurt again, and as a result spent my seventh grade year alone. It was hard, but I managed. I didn't want to make the same mistake twice.

I jumped when the bell rang, and everyone around me sighed in relief all at once.

"So, that ends our presentation, have a nice summer vacation!"

I turned back to the guest speaker, only then realizing that I'd failed in my attempts to pay attention. Not that I'd given it much effort, though.

I picked up my bag, prepared to sprint out of there if I had to, and froze in horror when I saw that the speaker was standing at the gym's entrance, lining the students up to shake their hands. I groaned aloud. Why? I'd been so close to getting out of there, and now I had to wait in line to leave? What was this, some kind of prolonged torture?

I sighed, and walked to get in line. Since I'd been sitting on the far side of the gymnasium, though, I was last to get in line. Figured. At the rate the line was going, it seemed as though we'd be there for a while. He insisted on speaking to each and every student, asking names, and hobbies, and other things that really weren't important. I could hear some people whispering about how they would miss the buses if they didn't hurry, and I hoped for their sakes that the buses waited. They should know about the guest speaker and his rants, since he came every year. I'd heard of it too, but hadn't believed such infinite boredom was possible. I'd been wrong.

As I waited I found my thoughts returning to aunt Kristine. She would be getting married in a month or so, in the backyard. She'd said that she wanted to 'be one with Mother Nature' during the ceremony. She, too, was a witch, teaching me after my mother passed, and all witches seem to have a love of the elements. So, I think the 'Mother Nature' thing she was pulling was all thanks to her witch nature. After all, the element she specializes in is earth.

All witches specialize in an element, which they can manipulate at will-fire, earth, water, or air. It was usually based on either the witches skill with the element, or just personal preference. I myself liked the water element best, and found it easier to work with. So, while my aunt likes to manipulate the earth, I like to manipulate water. We can work with the others as well, of course, it's just that the one we chose just became our specialty. Had a landscaping problem? Call up your local witch friend who specializes in earth. Need your pond's polluted water cleaned? Simple! Just count on the neighborhood water witch specialist, she'll easily purify it!

Then again, finding witches and mages wasn't as easy as looking in your phone book. There were very few of us, fewer than most would think. Some people have magical abilities, of course, like psychics, but they aren't full-fledged witches. Those were rare. My mother, my aunt, and I, were probably the only female witches left in this state, and my father was probably the only mage. While magic is hereditary, it can sometimes skip a few or several generations before someone is born who can use it. My mother and aunt, twins, had both been born with it, after their mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, and her mother before her hadn't. It was pretty much the same with my father. It was also rare for a child to be born of a mage and witch, since there were so few and they usually didn't find one another.

This may have played a part in why I had magic, and it hadn't decided to skip this generation or more. Maybe the mage/witch combination made the odds of the child having power greater.

My thoughts suddenly turned back to my aunt. She had taught me everything she knew after my mother died. I had decided at nine that I was going to become a witch my mother could be proud of, and that my father would be happy to brag about. I had studied nonstop since then, doing double lessons, and practicing in all my spare time. I wondered, then, if when my aunt had a baby of her own, as she was planning to, would it inherit the magic gift? Or would the magic skip a generation again?

Which reminded me, what was I going to do? With Kristine marrying, would I be in the way? Surely they didn't want me, a teenage girl, wandering around their house in their first years of marriage? If I was there, wouldn't it just cause trouble? Yet, I had nowhere else to go. Then, once a baby did come along, surely my being there would cause problems?

"Kris?"

Surely I should find somewhere else to go?

"Kris?"

But where would I go? Where _could _I go?

"Kristiana!"

My head jerked around when someone yelled my name, to find the guest speaker and the teachers all staring at me. I realized I'd spaced out and hadn't noticed the line moving. Everyone was now gone, and I was the only one left, standing in the middle of the gym. Of course, no one in my class had bothered letting me know. I didn't have any friends who'd bother, remember?

Mrs. Clent, my math teacher, the one who had spoken, was shaking her head, a grin on her face. "I swear, sometimes I think you spend more time in the clouds than you do here on Earth. What were you thinking that made you space out this time?"

The other teachers laughed, knowing of my tendency to slip into a daze at random moments, and I gave her an apologetic smile. "Nothing much, just my aunt."

Mr. Kelps, my science teacher, nodded his head. "She's getting married isn't she?"

"Yeah." I wasn't surprised he knew, Kristine had practically announced it to the world when Harold had proposed. I didn't understand why she'd been so peppy and happy, but she said I'd understand someday. I was doubtful.

"Well, let's try to get you out of here, now. Your aunt will be worried if you get home too late." Mrs. Clent gestured for me to come forward.

I then noticed that the guest speaker was still there, waiting for me to come up and shake his dang hand. Sighing, I walked forward, but paused when I was about five feet from him.

There was something odd about this guy. He exuded a strange aura-detecting and identifying auras was one of the first things my mother'd taught me-making the air around him feel cool, like you were stepping into water at the YMCA pool, not warm, but not cold, either. A perfect degree of coolness. It was odd. I'd detected warm auras around people, hot auras, freezing cold auras, auras that felt like static electricity all along your skin, and some that felt just plain gross, like you were walking through muck. Kristine had once said that coming near me was like swimming in Antarctica naked, my aura was that cold. Never, though, had a felt an aura like this before. The auras of witches and mages tended to be cold, which hinted at magical prowess. The colder the aura, the more powerful they usually were. This guy's aura was cool, which hinted at magic origins, but not enough for him to be a mage. This confused me.

A frown creased his brow as he took in my expression, which I imagined was somewhere between confusion and wariness. I was afraid what I'd discover if I got too close. You could never be too careful when facing the unknown.

Finally, noticing the stares my teachers were giving us, I moved forward, extending my hand to shake his. A smile crossed his face as he took it, and he looked straight into my eyes. His, I noticed, were dark green. So dark a green, there was hardly any color.

"Hello, miss. What's your name?" he asked.

I raised my eyebrows. "Kristiana Stilhouse," I answered slowly.

"Hmm," he said, seeming to concentrate carefully on my face. "What do you enjoy doing in your spare time, Kristiana?"

"Kris," I corrected, "and I enjoy reading, music, and other artistic pursuits."

"Interesting." He seemed to concentrate even harder; on what, though, I wasn't sure. "What did you think of my lecture? Do you plan on doing any of the things I mentioned?"

"Uh," I averted my eyes, "I thought it was interesting." I was lying of course, and I think he could tell, because a grin had pulled at his lips when my eyes had averted his. "But, unfortunately, I will not be able to do any of the things you spoke of because...um...my aunt's wedding! That's right, my aunt's getting married and I'll be too busy." Truthfully, I had no idea what he'd been talking about, but was hoping Kristine's marriage would make a good excuse for whatever it was. I think he'd said something about summer jobs?

"I see." The concentration on his face eased, as a slightly frustrated look took over. "What else do you want to do this summer, then, if you have any free time?"

I bit my lip. "Probably hit the library, I need some new reading material."

He nodded, and released my hand, pulling a cell from his pocket and flipping it open, dialing in a number. "Thank you for your time. Have a good summer."

I nodded, and walked past him, catching the first few words of his conversation. "Hey, it's me. I think I found one."

I didn't hear anymore, however, as I made my way into the halls, and the sounds of last minute locker cleanouts took over. Five or six people lined the walls, stuffing things into their bags and banging things in their lockers. I paid them no mind, however, as I continued to walk toward the building's entrance, backpack hanging on my shoulder.

What had he meant? Found one what? Why had he looked so frustrated during our conversation? I shook my head, I didn't need to be bothered by this. I had other things to worry about. Like a wedding, and the fact that Harold was moving in to be closer to Kristine today.

I stepped out the front doors, and the warm afternoon sun fell onto my pale skin, untanned from staying indoors to read instead of play outside. I knew I _should_ feel warm, but I didn't.

The speaker's cool aura clung to my skin the whole way home.

I cautiously approached the front of our one story house-which was on the edge of town, so our yard was more spacious and wide than anyone else's, thus Kristine's wanting to have the wedding there-eyeing the moving van with a mixture of alarm and cheer.

I mean, I liked the thought of Harold moving in-especially since he knew about our magic so there wouldn't be any awkwardness or secret keeping-but I was also slightly put off by that fact. It had always been just me and Kristine since I'd moved in some four and a half years ago. The thought of someone else, someone whom I didn't know very personally, sitting at the breakfast table every morning, was daunting. Especially since I'd only just began to let myself get close to him, finally accepting the fact that he was going to become a permanent fixture of my life. It was then that the very core of my thoughts walked out the front door onto the porch, which was made of sturdy wood planks that made a sort of deck, and leaned on the railings when he spotted me. A wide grin immediately spread from ear-to-ear.

Harold wasn't an extraordinary member of the male species. He had brown hair cut short, and brown eyes to match. He dressed conservatively, simple T-shirt and blue jeans faded at the knees, the ends frayed. He had a pair of worn out white sneakers on his feet, and his calloused hands hinted at his occupation as a carpenter. His smile flashed white, showing the state of dental hygiene, but his teeth were slightly crooked.

"What's up, kiddo?" Harold asked in a deep, resonant voice, his eyes sparkling. While I myself couldn't fully understand the attraction my aunt felt for this guy, I felt I could partially when his eyes sparkled like that; it made him seem younger than his thirty years, and gave his face a warmth that you couldn't help but smile back at.

"Nothing much, saw-man," I said, the aforementioned smile crossing my face. "I can see you're moving in a few hours early. What, can't stand to be apart from my dear aunt Kristine for another second?"

He laughed, the sound booming out so loud I wouldn't have been surprised if everyone on the street heard it. "Yes, that's exactly it. I just couldn't stand another moment of such endless torture."

I shook my head, giving a martyred sigh. "She has _so_ got you trained."

He rolled his eyes. "She does not."

"Harold, could you come here for a minute?" Kristine's voice called through the open screen door.  
"Coming!" Harold instantly straightened, ready and willing to obey her command. I raised my eyebrows at his obvious whipped status, and he grimaced at me before walking inside.

Chuckling to myself, I made to follow suit, but paused for a moment to glance back over my shoulder at the moving van. God only knew how my life would change in the months to come. All I could do was hope it turned out for the best.

I shrugged away the slight panic that rose up in me, which brought on a feeling of nauseousness in my stomach. I don't know why I always feel like vomiting whenever I feel panicky, but it was a fact I'd learned to live with. Just like I'd learned to live with the loneliness I sometimes felt at my self-imposed isolation. So, I handled it as I did that one. I bottled the emotion away. I don't know how deep, how big, or how much this metaphorical bottle in my heart could hold, but it had been doing well so far. It had held four and a half years worth of negative thoughts and feelings, after all. I knew someday, though, this bottle was going to burst, and I'd end up striking out at something, or someone. My worst fear was that I'd be too pent up, and would accidentally hurt someone. I'd never forgive myself if that happened.

I walked into the house, passing through the living room and into the kitchen where Kristine sat at the kitchen table. Harold was there as well, sitting next to her with a resigned look on his face. She smiled up at me, nodding her head in recognition with quick 'hi' before returning to whatever it was she was talking to Harold about. I poured myself a glass of milk and took some cookies from the Chips Ahoy! package in the snack cabinet. As I made my way to leave, I heard a snippet of the conversation they were having. She was talking to him about floral arrangements for the wedding.

God help the man.

Harold noticed I was looking at him with a pitying expression, and understanding that I knew the kind of torture he was going through, gave me a look of desperation. A sly smile crossed my face as the pity became amusement. I was his only lifeline out of this situation, and he knew it. I thought I knew what I would do, but I still made myself think it over.

It took all of a second.

Smile still in place, I turned on my heel and left the room, chuckling at the sound of his groan behind me. I made my way to my room, opening the door to the quiet paradise, and setting the milk and cookies on the dresser.

My room is my favorite place in the whole world. Purple walls, matching lavender bedcovers and pillows, and even purple carpeting covered the room. There was a single floor-to-ceiling window against the far wall, which was also covered in purple drapes. The room wasn't overly large, and to some would even appear small, but for me it was the perfect size. A single white dresser sat against the right wall, opposite the bed on the left wall. I didn't have a TV, but I did have books. They were all on racks in the closet to my right, but the desk, which faced the wall by the window, had all my favorites lined up.

I sat my bag on the floor in front of the bed, slipping off my shoes in the process. I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, reveling in the silence. Whoever said silence is golden was right, it truly was. It was one of the few times I could feel calm, and without noises to distract me, I could picture my old life before the death of my parents.

I did that now, closing my eyes. I could see myself, sitting on my father's lap as he gently stroked my hair. He would whisper spells and incantations to me as though they were lullabies, hoping this would make me memorize them easier. It had worked, and that was how I'd always been taught from then on. At some point I'd fall asleep, and he'd gently rock me until I woke up again, even if it took a few hours, or if it was late enough, he'd put me to bed. I had vague memories of waking up as he pulled the covers up to my chest, his lips brushing my forehead as his mustache rubbed against my skin. He'd always whisper something, whether it be an 'I love you', a 'good night', or a murmured protection from nightmares spell varied from night to night, but he never failed to say something. Even if it was just a quick apology for an argument we'd had earlier that day.

It was one of the most beautiful memories I had.

A light ruffling sound under the bed brought my attention back to the present, and I rolled over to look over the edge. Bindi, my aforementioned familiar, was crawling from the shadows, stretching her paws in front of her. She had pure white fur on her back, legs, and head, excluding the grayish blue fur on her ears, face, tail, and paws. She yawned as she arched her back, turning to look up at me on the bed with her powder blue eyes. The eyes weren't that of a one year old kitten, but a nearly fourteen year old cat. Because she's my familiar, she ages as I do, and since by human nature I'd still be considered a kitten, she remained a kitten's form. But her eyes were too smart for the body. She had the eyes of something far more intelligent than just some mere animal, she had the eyes of someone far older and wiser than I.

_How was your day?_ Bindi asked.

I smiled at her. Bindi could let others hear her, but she never did. She kept it between the two of us at all times, and I'd never seen her let anyone else hear her in all the years I'd had her. "It was fine."

_Hmmmm..._Bindi jumped onto the bed, her sleek fur rubbing against my leg as she looked at me with those intelligent eyes. _Why do I smell traces of a magic user on you?_

I wasn't surprised she'd noticed. Bindi noticed everything. "There was a speaker at our school today," I answered. "His aura was..." I searched for the right words, "magically oriented. It wasn't strong, really. Nothing to worry about." The feeling that crept along my skin at the memory of his aura bellied my words.

_Hmmmm..._Bindi said again, _are you sure you're alright?_

I gave a light laugh. "I'm fine, Bindi. Really."

She seemed to accept this, as she crawled up to curl onto my chest as I lay back on the bed. Her purrs vibrated through her body, giving my chest a tingling feeling. As we slipped into silence once more, she lifted her head to look at me.

_What had you been thinking about? _she asked.

I lifted my head and frowned at her. "When?"

_Just before I woke up and crawled from under the bed._

I sat my head back down, wondering if I should tell her. I knew she didn't like it when I dwelled on the past, but didn't mind if I did it now and again. The worst part wasn't telling her about the things I'd been reminiscing, though, it was the fact that she'd been there for pretty much all of it, so she understood exactly what I was talking about.

Bindi seemed to guess from my silence what I'd been thinking, as she scowled at me and lightly nipped at my arm. _I hate it when you get silent on me. Tell me, Kris, what were you remembering this time? _Her tone had changed from annoyed to quietly affectionate and comforting as she said the last part.

I met the eyes of that smart cat, the powder blue matching the sky on a sunny day. They were soft, warm, and loving as she stared back, willing to accept anything and everything I told her. In some ways, even though we were the same age, she seemed like a mother. Always listening, remembering things from when I was a baby, watching out for me, and scolding me when I needed it. There was one thing, however, that stood above all else.

She truly, truly loved me. As though I were her own kitten.

I stared at those eyes for another split-second before giving her a small smile, and closed my eyes. "I was remembering Dad's lullabies," I whispered.

_Ah._ I opened my eyes to see hers, a speck of sadness entering her eyes as she rubbed her head comfortingly against my neck. _I see. You can cry if you want, Kris. I won't mind. You should let yourself cry more, anyway. It'll make you feel better._

I put a hand on my forehead, covering my eyes as I breathed deeply through my nose. I hated when she said things like that. Not because it was annoying, but because it was exactly what I needed to hear. She knew I was lonely, and while she disagreed with the reasons behind my antisocial nature, she supported me in any way possible. She knew I hadn't let myself cry at my parents' funeral, and that I never let people see my pain. She knew how much I missed them, and how much I wanted someone, _anyone_, to hold me and tell me it would be all right, even if it was a lie. She knew, and still she loved me, still she let me cry in front of her without judgment.

I heard a slight choking sound, and distantly realized it was me, but didn't attempt to stop it. I could feel water sliding down my temples, into my hair, as the tears fell from the corner of my eyes. I drew in a shaky breath, letting it out in a whoosh, my body beginning to shake with the force of my tears. Memories flashed in front of my eyes-from as early as when I was three, to as late as the hour prior to the accident.

Bindi sat on my chest the whole time, purring and rubbing me with her face and paws, all the while murmuring, _Shhhh. It's alright little one. I'm here, I'm here. It's okay now. I love you. It's okay._

_I'm here._

* * *

**Hello again, my lovlies! Thank you for reading this chapter, please review! Remember, they make me HAPPY! Here's a sneak peek for those wondering about the next chapter...**

_So I faked, and I sighed, and I felt something inside me dim as I listened to the words of the preacher-unattached and uncaring-smile firmly in place as I only allowed myself a real smile in moments like Harold's thumbs up. In some ways it was like I was boxing myself away, as bits and pieces of me I'd once been and known, emotions I'd once felt, were carefully stored away, to only be used and expressed in the rarest of moments, with the rarest of company. And every day that box got fuller and fuller, as the bottle with my negative emotions filled itself more and more._


	3. Forms

**

* * *

**

Yeah, so here's chapter two! Yay! Tell me what you think..bla bla bla...the usual...

Chapter 2:Forms

I rubbed my eyes as the last of the tears stopped, sniffing a few times to clear my stuffed up sinuses. Glancing at the clock on the dresser, I see that it's three-thirty, and I'd been crying for half an hour. Bindi was asleep on my chest, her gentle purring soothing and comforting. I managed to slip her off my chest without waking her up, and got off the bed to my feet. I walked to the dresser, where the milk and cookies still sat, and took a sip of the now warmish liquid, biting into a cookie afterward.

Bindi was right. I didn't let myself cry as much as I'd like to. That outburst right then had been the first in over three months, and while she hated crying, it was sort of relieving, too. It was like the bottle had lowered a bit, and wasn't as close to bursting as it had been. So, in some ways, the crying was a form of release, to keep her from losing control of her emotions and possibly herself for just a little bit longer.

After gulping down the milk and scarfing the cookies, I made my way to the bathroom across the hall, flicking on the light switch as I did so. I stared at myself in the mirror, not surprised to find that my grey eyes were bloodshot and puffy. I'd always hated my eyes; they weren't beautiful like Mom's had been, a misty silver-grey that had made them seem luminous, in a way. I could only describe mine as...well...grey. I didn't like my hair, either. Bushy, and wild, it was a shade somewhere between my Dad's dark, almost black, brown and Mom's chestnut brown. I'd never liked the color, it just didn't seem right to me. Then there were my lips. My lips were full like my parents', but Dad's had been pale pink, and my Mom's a healthy pink. Mine, on the other hand, were, once again, a mix of the two. My upper lip was pale pink, and my lower a healthy pink color. I was tall for a girl, too, even though I didn't know where I got that from. I towered over other girls, and most guys I knew, at 5'11, and if for some reason my body saw fit to grow another inch before puberty ended in the next few years, I'd hit the six foot mark.

I was Godzilla and everyone else were the poor people of Tokyo, running in fright at the sight of the giant Amazon female.

I pulled open the medicine cabinet, grabbing the eye drops out and squeezing a few in my eyes. I waited for the redness to disappear, then, after rifling through some drawers to find one, held a damp washcloth to my face in an attempt to reduce the swelling. When I took it from my face, there was one other thing I noticed about me that, while I didn't care for it, didn't really mind having either.

You see, when you look around in your typical school, about what would you say is the average weight of every girl there? One hundred and fifteen, one hundred and twenty pounds? I weigh two hundred and twenty. I don't see what the big deal is. So I have to buy clothes that are a size ten or eleven instead of five and six, so what? And who cares that I get a bit of a double chin when pull my head in like a turtle? It's not like I'm hideous, or anything, so why should my size matter?

I shook my head at my reflection. It didn't matter. Besides, even if it did matter, it wasn't like I would have done anything. Why do girls go on diets and lose weight, and such? Simple, they do it to make themselves look better, and to attract members of the opposite sex. Never in my life have I had boyfriend, and never, I'm starting to think, will I want one. After all, who did I have to impress? Try and prove me wrong, that I don't have no one.

God, I hate it when things I think come back to haunt me.

I stood off to the side of the altar, trying to look like I was actually paying attention to what the preacher was saying. I was at Kristine's wedding, holding the bouquet while the happy couple made their vows. The sun shone on the spacious backyard, where white, red, and yellow lawn chairs sat in rows, and what few relatives were on my side of the family and Harold's watched with tearful expressions.

I was Kristine's Maid of Honor, and so far I wasn't liking the position too much. The dress was this big puffy red thing that made me look like some deformed strawberry. It was hot outside, without even the slightest breeze to cool us off with. I was starting to sweat, my carefully pinned up hair was coming loose and strands were sticking to my sticky face. These damn heels were killing my feet with no remorse whatsoever. Just to make it worse, Bindi was sitting in the cool shade of one of the many trees in the wide backyard, flicking her little tail back and forth, back and forth. She caught my eye, and I swear the look on her face was smug, like she was rubbing it in.

I took a deep breath, and blew it up into my face, attempting to remove some of the stuck hair on my upper lip. A thought came to me suddenly, and I grinned to myself. I reached inside myself, and called upon the magic stored in there, muttering a swift incantation.

I mentioned earlier that my specialty was water. All this really means, is that since water is my preference, I can manipulate it and do spells with it without having to speak an incantation. I can do other elements, but with them I have to speak. I didn't mind this, however, when a sudden, cool breeze blew through the yard to sway the branches on the trees and ruffle everyone's hair slightly.

I barely contained my own sigh of relief at the instant pleasure that came with the cool, but there were several in the chairs who didn't bother. Several soft sighs came from them, and their smiles grew more profound and believable. I saw Kristine shoot a quick accusatory glare over her shoulder at me, but I smiled innocently. Harold, while she was turned away, gave me a toothy grin and a discreet thumbs up. My smile grew warmer.

Over the past two months, I'd grown comfortable with the thought of Harold moving in with us. I was really starting to come to like the man. Yet, there was a nagging suspicion, a feeling of sorts, that there was something I had to do, somewhere I needed to be...

What that was, of course, I had no idea.

I murmured a soft sigh of pleasure as the wind blew against my neck. In truth, I didn't want to be out here. I would rather have been in my room reading a book, or under the tree with Bindi. I preferred the latter. But I had to stay here, with Kristine, to make her happy. It was her special day, and also played a major role in my life as well. It would make her happy. So, I when she was looking, I plastered on the fake smile. There were times I believed she could see through the smile, but I'd gotten so good at it, that rarely happened anymore.

So I faked, and I sighed, and I felt something inside me dim as I listened to the words of the preacher-unattached and uncaring-smile firmly in place as I only allowed myself a real smile in moments like Harold's thumbs up. In some ways it was like I was boxing myself away, as bits and pieces of me I'd once been and known, emotions I'd once felt, were carefully stored away, to only be used and expressed in the rarest of moments, with the rarest of company. And every day that box got fuller and fuller, as the bottle with my negative emotions filled itself more and more.

"You may now kiss the bride."

I looked up to see the preacher smiling, a smile that didn't touch his eyes, and Harold drawing in Kristine to give her one of the most tender kisses I'd ever seen. It was nothing, really. A brief touch of lips, a soft brushing, like the kind you see on the streets everyday with teenagers and married couples in restaurants. Yet at the same time, it was so personal and full of emotion that it made me want to weep.

As everyone dispersed and moved to congratulate the couple, I escaped into the house with a quick excuse to my aunt about using the bathroom. She didn't question, I think she knew my discomfort with being there. I'd gotten to my room and had kicked off the shoes when the doorbell rang. For a moment I just stood there, thinking to let someone else get it, but then I remembered that I was the only one in the house.

With a sigh, I walked from the room to answer the front door, and found it to be a delivery man. He plastered on a fake smile as I opened the door, standing straight in his brown uniform. When he saw me his smile faltered for a second as his eyes widened, but he quickly fixed it.

"Package for Kristiana Stilhouse," he said, and it sounded like he was trying to hold back laughter.

"Yes, that's me," I said, voice a little sharper than I'd have liked it to be. I knew I looked stupid in the dress, but I didn't need him reminding me.

Wordlessly he handed me a brown box and a clipboard for my signature. I signed the paper and gave it back to him, then slammed the door shut before he could say anything. I took the box back to my room and set it on the bed, staring at it for a moment.

_What do you have there?_ Bindi asked, coming out from under the bed. I hadn't known she'd been in here-she must have followed me inside without my noticing.

"I don't know." I poked it with a finger.

_Well don't just stare at it, open it! _She jumped on the bed and began to nudge the box with her head.

I muttered a quick spell to make my nails grow long and sharp, then proceeded to use them to cut the tape holding the box shut. After reverting my nails back to their original form, I pulled out the things that were inside. There was a large booklet, a pamphlet, a few forms to fill out, and a pin that was in the shape of teardrop, only instead of blue, it was red. The words VC Academy were emblazoned in bright gold.

_What is it?_

I glanced at the cat, who was now poking the stack of papers, and shrugged. Picking up the top paper on the stack, I began to read the bold black letters. I couldn't believe what it said, so I re-read it. Then I read it again. And again.

_What is it? _Bindi repeated, a tad bit impatiently.

I sank down onto the bed. "Apparently I've been selected to attend VC Academy." I stared down at the pin and papers.

_Where's that? _

I shook my head. "I have no clue."

_How much does it cost?_

"It's free." Her mouth dropped open.

_How was it you came to be chosen, then? _Her voice sounded a little hysterical.

I shrugged. "The paper just says that I contain 'special attributes' that make me acceptable."

Bindi looked at me with solemn eyes. _Do you want to go?_

I picked up the pin and rubbed it with my thumb. "I don't know."

_Well look through these papers before you come to a decision. Make sure you think about it thoroughly, this is a big deal. _Bindi was in full on lecture mode.

I smiled at her. "I will."

Several days later I sat at my desk, looking at the forms one more time. Kristine had seen the papers and told me basically the same thing Bindi did. So while Kristine and Harold were away on their honeymoon, I looked over every form and pamphlet in that box. I weighed all the pros and cons of attending, and what my life would be like if I went there.

It seemed like a nice enough place. No, extravagant was a better word for it. There were few students compared to most schools. Only two hundred and fifty or so people attended from 8-12 grade levels, when most schools have over five hundred students in that range. The school consisted of an entire town called Harrowsfield. The students were given their own house, which they shared with any siblings or relatives who also attended. Otherwise, you got the place to yourself. I liked that, it meant that if I attended, I'd get a house just for me. Though, I did note that people living by themselves without roommates' status as such was 'subject to change'. I didn't know what that meant, but it seemed fine to me.

Then there was the meal plan. Apparently once a month you got your kitchen completely stocked with food and drinks, and lunch was taken care of by the school. Also, every morning milk was left in a glass bottle on your doorstep. Just like in the 1950s. You were also stocked with any supplies you might need, like laundry detergent, shampoo and conditioner, and dish soap. Every house also had two bedrooms, two baths, a library, a living room, a kitchen, a laundry room, a pantry, and a deck out back, and it was all stocked with furniture. There was even a computer in the house with an internet connection!

The school itself was a one story building, with clean and really nice looking classrooms, a cafeteria with actual wooden tables and chairs, and the halls were clean with shiny new lockers. The place looked really cool.

Finally, there was an allowance that all the students got every month. Each student received five hundred bucks to do whatever they wanted with. While it would seem that there wouldn't be anything to do in the town when you thought about it, there was. An entire section of the town was dedicated to the entertainment of the students. There were three clothing outlets, four restaurants, a library, two Starbucks, an arcade, a park with playground equipment and trails to walk on, and several auto shops, for those students who could drive.

This was no town-it was a thriving city. And it was entirely owned by VC Academy.

The best part of the deal, however, was that you could keep pets. Which meant I could take Bindi with me, if I chose to go.

Still, I thought about not accepting. About continuing to stay here and stick with what I was already doing, without change. Because that's what this would be-change. I would be leaving behind everything. I would have to make it known to everyone at this new place that I don't hang with people. That I preferred to stay alone. So, really, wouldn't it be easier to stay here, where I wouldn't have to do these things?

My mind told me that the answer to this question was yes. I should stay here, where things didn't change too much. Where I had no friends other than my aunt, Harold, and Bindi. Where I wouldn't have to ward off advances from potential friends.

Yet, there was something in me, something I wasn't aware was there, that told me I should go. That said this place was where I needed to be. Where I had to be.

I picked up the forms that had to be filled in and sent back with all my personal information, pen poised above the paper. Should I fill it out? Should I throw it all away?

Slowly, I filled in the blanks.

* * *

**So there you have it. Here's a sneak peek into the next chappie, so read and review!**

Did you feel that? _Bindi asked. Her eyes were wide._

_I nodded slowly, not looking at her._

What do you think it was?

_I shook my head. I wasn't answering out loud because it would catch attention if I were seen speaking to my cat._


	4. Concealment

**Sorry guys, I kinda disappeared for a while, didn't I? Well, here's your next chapter. Review!**

Chapter 3:Concealment

It has been about a month since I sent in those papers. A month since I decided to change my life. A month since I chose to leave the safety of my home.

The bus had come that morning on August 23 around five in the morning. Kristine and Harold had been back from their honeymoon for a few weeks, and, ever the overdramatic, she had to have her teary goodbye as I left.

"Did you pack your clothes?" she asked.

"Yes, Kristine," I answered for the millionth time.

She pursed her lips. "Did you pack your quilt?"

I nodded. "Yes, Kristine."

"Did you bring Bindi?"

I looked down at the cat in my arms, brow raised. "Yes, I believe I did, Kristine."

She hugged me tightly as the bus outside honked once again, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. That right there was almost enough to make me change my mind, but some part of me wouldn't allow that. It had already made it's decision.

So as I finally left the house, bags in tow, with Harold helping, I made my way to the bus. It had reclinable seats, and a compartment area overhead. After Harold loaded my bags in the bottom, I hugged him with whispered goodbyes, then got on the bus.

The driver smiled. "Hello, there, Ms. Stilhouse."

I wasn't surprised he knew my name, he probably had a list somewhere. I was surprised, though, at the aura I felt around him. His aura was cool, like the one that guest speaker had had. Like the water at the YMCA. And his eyes were a brown so dark, they were almost black.

I took his hand with a nod, hoping he didn't notice how stiff my spine had suddenly become. Then I moved quickly away down the isle to a seat in the back, far from the others. I put my carry-on in the overhead compartment, after taking out a book to read and the iPod Nano I only listened to on long trips. Then I sat down and reclined in my seat, turning on my iPod and opening the book to where I'd left off. Bindi settled in my lap for the trip, dozing on and off the whole time.

The trip wasn't very eventful. A few words from people who sat close enough to me that I could hear them, whom I quickly discouraged by answering in with single syllables and shrugs. Some were bold enough to pet Bindi and ask questions. I just refused to answer. Then there was one who thought to sit next to me. I got rid of them with a few glares and moving my bag from the overhead compartment to the empty seat. People got the idea quickly enough not to come near me. After all that, it settled down quickly. The bus had only about six people on it, myself included. Two boys, and four girls. I felt sorry for the boys.

We were told we were almost there around three in the afternoon. I didn't know how far we'd driven, nor did I know what state we were in. The pamphlets had left that out. But there was something...odd about the area. We were about a mile from the town, we were told, and I felt something. It was a magic spell, I noted. That was something else I'd learned, that spells give off an aura that matches their owner, so you could tell who cast the spell. But it also had a feel, so you could tell what kind of spell it was.

This spell was cold, like the coldest temperature in a bathtub cold. Either a witch or a mage then, and not particularly powerful. Then there was the spell. It had the feeling of velvet running along skin. A concealment spell, then. A big one, too. It seemed to cover the entire area. I shivered when we passed through it, about a half mile from the town. Why, I asked myself, would a school need a mage to put a concealment spell on it?

_Did you feel that?_ Bindi asked. Her eyes were wide.

I nodded slowly, not looking at her.

_What do you think it was?_

I shook my head. I wasn't answering out loud because it would catch attention if I were seen speaking to my cat.

She was silent after that, and the bus drove peacefully through the town. The scary thing was, there was no one on the street. It was like the entire place was deserted. The others on the bus noticed this, and started to murmur excitedly to each other. They shut up when they saw the reason why a few minutes later. Everyone in town, it seemed, had gathered at the school. Which equaled to the aforementioned two hundred and fifty students plus teachers. They all broke into cheers the moment the bus pulled into the school's parking lot. We all piled out of the bus, and the driver led us into the school. I was tense every step of the way, because once I'd set foot of the at bus, I'd been able to feel the auras of those around me.

Almost every single one was as cool as the bus driver's.

I held tightly onto Bindi as we were led to the cafeteria, which was actually a cafetorium, if the high ceilings and curtains surrounding a stage on the room's far side were anything to go by. The six of us filed on stage as the rest of the town's population followed in to crowd the stage. I stared back at the crowd, and met eyes that, while they had color, were all so dark you almost couldn't see it. Just like the guest speaker's. Only a few people had normal colored eyes among the whole bunch.

A man in a suit came onto the stage then, and smiled at us all in a way that I believed was meant to be reassuring, since some of the girls were beginning to wring their hands and cast nervous glances at the crowd.

The man then called for silence and walked to shake the hands of each person, whispering something in their ears and averting his face to smile so only they could see it. The crowd was silent when the first girl passed out, a look of horror on her face. Then, when he did the same with the second girl, she passed out. So did the next person, a boy. Then another girl passed out. Finally, he'd reached the second boy, the person before me. The crowd seemed disappointed.

"Bindi," I whispered so quietly only she could hear it, as I watched the others-still unconscious-being carted off stage. "What is he?" I knew there was something different about this man, he wasn't human. Not many in this crowd were. The cool auras they all exuded were too different, too unnatural. And if whatever he was doing and saying was enough to shock those girls and that boy into unconsciousness, then that only increased my certainty.

Bindi uttered one word. But it was enough to explain some things. Why they pamphlets didn't give out the location of the town. Why these people's eyes were so different. Why they exuded such a strange aura. Why the other people from the bus were passing out in fear.

_Vampire._

* * *

**So, here's the preview, as per usual.**

_'"Do you remember the government representative you had come to your school at the end of seventh grade?" I nodded. "They read the minds of all the students, but the few they find who they can't read they mark down and have information gathered on. We then access those people's blood work, and confirm whether or not they are VC+."_

_"Wait a second, the government is in on this?"_

_He smiled. "Of course, who do you think provides our funding?"'_

**Okay then. Tell me what you thought, and review. Thanks for reading!**


End file.
